3 reviews on clubs and clothing businesses
K&G Men's clothing store - review
Category: Fashion, Style, Shopping
K&G Men's Store
Location: The one in Downers
K&G is the cheap skate's solution to formal/sports wear for the penny pinchers of the new millennium. Walking past the always empty Quiznos that does less business then a BSDM shop would do in an Amish town, you will find a store that will stimulate bowel movement. Entering K&G you will walk past the service desk full of half assed tailors that will size you wrong no matter what you buy. The measuring tape must read in hieroglyphics since every pair of pants I ever got here looked like they were made by Omar the tent maker, i.e. way too fucking big. I needed to Bogart a pair of walking stilts from the circus just to walk around in the motherfuckers. The tailors were seemingly powerless to make any real adjustments, and I looked like I was carrying a colostomy bag around in my pants, I was not impressed.
The wanna be designer brands are so fucking mope that I laughed out loud at the first pair of Adolf brand black socks I saw starring back at me on the shelf. A whole cornucopia of knock off designer watches that will turn your wrist green in a matter of days are stacked up like babies waiting to be adopted. The terrible clientele of 20 and 30 something bonkey's come here to try to get their Briant Gumble look down to a T, and Bankrupted white men in their 40's trying to give off that "Professional" look are aimlessly moping threw out the place. The key to the bathroom had 45LBS of metal plates and gator tags bolted to it, so I felt like Cool Hand Luke dragging around a ball and chain just to take a piss. The only suit I bought here is big enough for the Dateline special on the half ton man, since it would fit him perfectly. These tailors obviously have poor eyesight and should not be trusted to do anything except ring the fucking cash register.
Also an experimental archeologist is needed to identify the outdated clothing here that harkens back to ancient Sumerian settlements. I'd rather wear a wooden barrel with suspenders attached to it like some 1930's cartoon than ever wear another piece of clothing from K&G again.....
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------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------CrazyBOOGIE NIGHTS-
Location: what do I look like? A fucking map?
Venue: T&A trading booth
Boogie nights is located in a shitty burb not worth mentioning, as the only landmarks in the area are a Speedway and Zebulon adult books were gay men give secret handshakes before they pass head in masse. Boogie nights is a bar slut magnet and Mecca for the late 30's balding man with the ubiquitous total gym physique. Hundreds of 20, 30 and 40 something's congregate here on the weekends to eye fuck potential flesh and hope to take someone to their home/car/alley for an awkward sexual experience, and then try to forget it by the next weekend. It's never a sausage fest here on the weekends as a plethora of low income vagina from the 847 storm the door to hunt man flesh and give there numbers out like cheese cubes on taste test day at Jewel.
The local guys that iv seen come here are no competition to insane mopes and tough guys from the city that venture here, no sir the regular male clientele just gets the scraps off the floor and the bottom of the barrel. The handful of suave lady killers that come here by mistake get there pick of the litter, so the competition among females is fierce. Cat fights and hair pulling are common place when a good looking guy gets eye fucked by 12 different women.
Drink specials are available but cheap skates don't get laid so I won't mention them.
The bartenders are quick and efficient, even when ordering 3 drinks at a time just for your self like I do. Pizza is available at certain times of the night near the entrance and is good for soaking up booze if suffering from whiskey dick. Many women that come here have enormous boobs and sport rhino booty's, in my opinion this is not a bad thing, but will turn off the handful of metrosexual's pretending to look at girls.
I guess I can't entirely condemn this flab fortress since they have a lot of decent and semi decent looking broads here, but the décor is reminiscent of a 60 year old Puerto Rican man's foreclosed beach house. Bright reds and purples along with awkward steps hiding among the place make it a slip and fall artist's wet dream.
So by all means skip your ass down here and wear a Prada muscle T-shirt you found on sale at TJ Max and More and you might get lucky….
MOPE
CRAZY ROCK STRIP CLUB:
Located on the border of Romeotuckey off Joliet Rd. and Rt. 55, Crazy Rock is an enigma. Inside you will find a strange concoction of Japanese businessmen that have been ejected from the Admiral for lude conduct, over the hill strippers, insane mopes like me, trashy local broads, and assorted fainghouls hiding in the shadows. The decor looks like Liberachi's Vegas fuck pad, without the rhinestone crusted grand piano of course. I never came in here without killing a 5th of Jack during the night, so I never left this place standing, and never drove home from here. I do remember that if you want to keep most of your cheese to get lap dances up stairs, you gotta bring in a bottle of booze and hide it behind the toilet, filling your glass with your own booze instead of $5 a drink every time. I call this maneuver The Godfather; it will save you your hard earned cake and let you get stupefied on the cheap. I used to come here exclusively with 2 friends of mine, Scott and Bob. Scott looks like the King from the Burger King commercials, and Bob is a Third Reich aficionado.
We would barge in here and take over a section of the place, with the main stage as the center piece of the main floor, the stripper poles go up 20ft all the way to the ceiling. This is useful when an over ambitious dancer decides to slide down the pole head first and catch her self at the last minute. Sometimes it works; sometimes a bitch gets taken to the ER.
I almost always had an interesting time here, I realized that most of the broads working here will fuck the clientele if you have a steady job and shower once a day, unlike most of the mooks in Romeotucky. I like to pick out the trashiest dancers and broads that look like they have domeproblems, since that always guarantees a better private dance. Unfortunately this place has lost a lot of business due to other strip clubs have gone full nude, and there broads still have to wear pasties. The flip side is they are freakier than other places; I had bite marks on my neck like a fucking vampire assaulted me on several occasions. I once was so drunk I decided on popping some Viagra my buddy used to sling, and for the next 30 minutes I got all the Lap dances I could just to creep out the dancers.
If you're just starting out in the strip club circuit, coming here is mandatory, but I'd rather go to Skybox or Playpen any day over this place.
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